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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199588">A Very Bad Idea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken'>thedevilchicken</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Getting Together, M/M, Magic, Multi, Scheming, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:26:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the terrors Geralt's ever faced, Jaskier thinks this one might just be the one he's least prepared for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fic In A Box</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Very Bad Idea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/gifts">coaldustcanary</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Of all the terrors Geralt's ever faced, Jaskier thinks this one might just be the one he's least prepared for. And he'd know better than anyone - half his repertoire's about his favourite witcher, after all. </p><p>"He doesn't look impressed," Yen says, standing there with her hands on her hips. </p><p>Jaskier narrows his eyes as he makes a show of peering at Geralt across the remarkably well-lit room - that's Yennefer's doing, some sort of magic that's lit the shabby space up like a fancy party. "Frankly, I don't know how you'd tell," he replies. "He looks at everything like that. Werewolf? Unimpressed. Dragon? Unimpressed. Finds a ravishing woman and a startlingly handsome man waiting for him in his room? Still, somehow, <i>somehow</i>, unimpressed." </p><p>"Oh, but you can tell when he really means it," Yen says. "He does--"</p><p>"--that thing with his nose?"</p><p>Yen taps the tip of her own entirely perfect nose and then gestures at Geralt, which is apparently to say she concurs. </p><p>"Yeah, that's how I know when he's bluffing at Gwent," Jaskier says.</p><p>"You know, I was not aware you could bluff at Gwent," Yen replies.</p><p>Jaskier shrugs. "Well, <i>he</i> can't," he says. </p><p>Yen snorts in amusement, which is somehow simultaneously obnoxious and adorable when she's the one doing it, and actually that covers quite a lot of things about Yen. Then they both turn to Geralt, who's looking really unimpressed, unless you know the squinting thing around his eyes and the way he's pursed his lips actually combine to mean he's surprised, and confused, and just a little wary. Maybe more than a little. Maybe a lot wary. But not unimpressed, because for once they've got the drop on him.</p><p>Jaskier doesn't blame him for thinking the two of them turning up together can only mean trouble, because it probably does. </p><p>Yen cocks her head and quirks a brow. Jaskier grins. Geralt looks like he'd rather fight three trolls with his hands tied behind his back than find out what they're doing here. </p><p>Jaskier and Yen share a look. It <i>definitely</i> means trouble. </p><p>---</p><p>The world is very small, if you look at it a certain way. </p><p>Maybe not physically because he's done enough traipsing about from here to there and back again via the arse end of nowhere over the years to know it's <i>physically</i> bloody big. But then again, in terms of the people he meets in it, it's both immense and incongruously minuscule. He's met thousands of people. And most of them he'll probably never see again, even if there's a chance they'll remember him by his singularly dulcet tones. But some of them just keep on turning up time and time again. </p><p>"What are you doing here, Yennefer?" he asked, definitely not cold or unwelcoming about it, when she turned up at a backwoods summer fête where he'd been hired to play. It was a lovely day, except for the bees that kept on buzzing around and putting him off his lyrics. He'd already sung <i>bee</i> instead of <i>tree</i> and <i>free</i> and <i>thee</i> and it was starting to sound like he had a fixation. As one of them landed on her shoulder with an indignant buzz, he started to wonder if she had something to do with it. </p><p>"Can't a lady just enjoy a nice fête?" she asked. </p><p>He narrowed his eyes at her. He put his hands on his hips and his lute slid down over his back and thwacked him on the arse with a resounding twang. Yennefer smiled sweetly. Jaskier's concerns did not feel particularly assuaged by that. </p><p>"You'll pardon me for saying so but I don't think you're much of a lady," he said. </p><p>"I don't think you're much of a singer, either," she replied, "but is it really polite to say so?"</p><p>Jaskier made a face because he supposed she had a point. Then Yen put her hand to her shoulder and the bee wandered onto her palm, shook itself like a dog and then took off at a rather lazy pace in the general direction of the flower arranging competition. There was pollen on Yen's skin when she reached out and patted his cheek, and he tried to brush it off but it just got on his hand, too, and then his trousers, and he huffed exasperatedly as she smiled at him again. He'd never known her do <i>that</i> much smiling, so she really had to be up to something.</p><p>"You know, Geralt's here," she said, pseudo-conversationally. "I saw him a few minutes ago. A small child was trying to persuade him to play hoopla; why don't you run along and save him?" </p><p>He opened his mouth like he might protest but actually, compared with standing there talking to Yennefer of Vengerberg with pollen stains on his clothes as he was periodically dive-bombed by her fuzzy little buzzing friends, saving Geralt from a fate worse than fairground games seemed like quite a good deal. Assuming she'd meant he should save Geralt from the child and not the child from Geralt.</p><p>"Well, it was lovely to see you but let's not let it happen again," Jaskier said, and he gave her a moderately sarcastic little bow. </p><p>"Oh, I think at this point it's inevitable," she replied, and then she turned and swept away and left him there. He watched her go and so did everyone else, parting to make way for her as she went; it really wasn't every day you met someone like Yen.</p><p>"Well, that wasn't ominous at all," he muttered to himself as he wandered off to go find Geralt. And, as it happened, Yen had been telling the truth for once; he found him by the hoopla stall, with three small children from the local orphanage trying to persuade him to have a go. He didn't seem moved.</p><p>"Just play the damn game, Geralt," Jaskier told him, as he reached up and shook him by one rather sturdy shoulder. </p><p>"I'd rather just give them the money." </p><p>"Of course you would. But the money's not the point." He tossed a coin to the nearest child and took a set of three hoops from the table. He took one of Geralt's hands and he slapped the hoops down into them, then pointed. "Throw. If you win a prize you can give it to me and I promise I won't tell Yennefer about it. I'm sure she'd be terribly jealous."</p><p>Geralt's fingers went tight around the hoops. He frowned. "Yennefer?" he said.</p><p>Jaskier shrugged. "She's around here somewhere. Covered in bees, if there's any justice in the world."</p><p>Geralt's frown deepened. "<i>Bees</i>?" he said.</p><p>"They're everywhere. Haven't you noticed?"</p><p>"Were there bees around her?"</p><p>"One landed on her. You'd think it was her pet, the way it was carrying on."</p><p>Geralt made a face that really couldn't have boded well for anyone concerned. "Was there any pollen?" he asked. </p><p>"Yes, there bloody well was." </p><p>"And she touched you?" </p><p>Jaskier gestured at the polleny state of his previously spotless and terribly fashionable attire. "You could say that, yes."</p><p>Geralt lifted his hand, the one that was holding the hoops. "And you touched me," he said.</p><p>"I think you just answered your own question." </p><p>The look on Geralt's face was unimpressed. But, if you knew the way he bared his teeth and furrowed his brow, that actually meant, <i>well, shit</i>.</p><p>"Have you touched anyone else?" </p><p>"No. Are you going to tell me--"</p><p>"Do you feel warm?"</p><p>"Well, it <i>is</i> the middle of summer." Jaskier pressed the back of one hand to his forehead. He frowned. "But now that you mention it..."</p><p>"Do you feel--" Geralt glanced down pointedly between Jaskier's legs then back up to his face. He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "--anything else?"</p><p>And, in that moment, realisation dawned. </p><p>"Oh, she didn't," Jaskier said, but when he ran his fingers through his hair in familiar Yennefer-related exasperation, he was just getting pollen in it and he knew that, in fact, she definitely had. The fact that his trousers were starting to feel even tighter than usual across the groin just reinforced that fact. </p><p>"Oh, she did," Geralt replied. He shook his head. He clenched the hoops. And Jaskier could see what he was doing was running through the possibilities of how they could get out of this unscathed, or at least relatively so, and coming up with absolutely nothing. Because there wasn't anything. He screwed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, cursed under his breath and then said, "Come with me." He scowled. "And don't touch anyone." </p><p>The kids shrieked as Geralt made off with the rings and Jaskier promised they'd be back then scampered off behind him. Fortunately, Geralt's scowl and his generally imposing demeanour made the people part for them just as surely as Yen's whole...<i>thing</i> did, and they made a quick march toward the nearest inn. Geralt apparently already had a room there because he continued his march straight up the stairs and unlocked a room with a key produced from inside his jacket and frankly, Jaskier was quite pleased that the place hadn't been situated farther away because even with Geralt striding along in front of him looking all imposing, the problem in his trousers had been rapidly becoming more apparent. He didn't usually like to cause scandals, or at least he preferred to do it of his own accord.</p><p>"So, what's so important in this neck of the woods that Yennefer needs to dose us both with sex pollen to keep us out of the way?" Jaskier asked, once the door was closed behind them. His voice sounded about half an octave higher than usual and he was shifting his weight in an utterly transparent attempt to give his erection more space in the crotch of his rather tight breeches, not that it helped even slightly. All it actually did was draw Geralt's attention, though he quickly looked away again. </p><p>"Do you have to call it that?" Geralt replied. </p><p>"Sex pollen?" Jaskier shrugged widely. "I mean, that's what everyone calls it." </p><p>Jaskier tried to retrieve his lute from where it was strung over his back while Geralt muttered, except apparently he was so damned discombobulated that all he did was get the strap wrapped around his neck in a less than suave manner. Geralt sighed and crossed the room and when he lifted his hands to help disentangle Jaskier from the death grip of his lute strap, his fingers against his throat made Jaskier shiver. Or maybe shudder. He's never been entirely clear on the distinction between the two, but it probably looked like he'd just stepped into a bath full of ice though really, it had the opposite effect. His entire body flushed hot like a very large dragon had just breathed fire in his general direction and his cock throbbed painfully. </p><p>"It has a name," Geralt said, as he was setting the lute down on the table rather less than delicately. </p><p>"It has a name that no one can pronounce," Jaskier said. "And it's not like it flows well when you sing about it."</p><p>"And <i>sex pollen</i> does?"</p><p>"You'd be surprised what I can make fit into a rhyme scheme." </p><p>Geralt leaned down with both hands against the tabletop and Jaskier could see he was pressing them there so hard his fingertips were white. Geralt hung his head and his silver hair hung forward, too, and Jaskier, even in his ridiculous condition, could suddenly see that, well, he wasn't the only one in a ridiculous condition. Geralt's cock was straining against his leather trousers and his skin was flushed and slightly sweaty and when he turned his head to look at him, sideways, all yellow eyes, there was a sort of resigned desperation on his face under the veneer of generic unimpressedness. </p><p>"I'd heard it didn't work on witchers," Jaskier said. </p><p>"And you believe everything you hear?" Geralt clucked his tongue. He shook his head. "Of course you do." </p><p>Geralt pushed himself back up. He stood up tall. And maybe he wasn't actually that much taller than Jaskier was but he always <i>seemed</i> like he was, at least, with the breadth of his chest and the bulk of his body and the self-assured but leave-me-fuck-alone thing he somehow managed to convey just through the way he stood. Maybe he wasn't that much taller but when Geralt clenched his jaw and winced and started unbuttoning his doublet with slightly shaky fingers, Jaskier felt incredibly small. </p><p>"Look, there has to be some sort of alternative," Jaskier said, though he had to question <i>why</i> he said it - after all, it wasn't like he hadn't imagined situations quite like this one in which he might find himself with Geralt. </p><p>Geralt looked up sharply. "Are you an expert?" he replied. Jaskier's voice had turned high and tight and almost squeaky, like he'd got stuck halfway into his falsetto range, but Geralt's had gone the other way; his voice was lower, and ragged, and his lip curled and he bared his teeth as he forced himself to look away. </p><p>"Well, there's probably someone around here we can hire," Jaskier said. "They can't all be eating strawberries on the market square and wondering where the dashing lutist went." </p><p>Geralt snorted. "You know how it works," he said. "Please don't tell me this is the first time it's happened to you."</p><p>Jaskier sighed. He shrugged, though the action was a bit more like flinging his arms around in a haphazard manner and he smacked the table and made his lute echo and his hand ache. "I know, I know," he said. "You do it once with the first person you touch or you do it ten times with someone else." He winced. He pulled a bit at the front of his breeches like maybe that would help, but it definitely didn't. "And honestly, it starts to chafe a bit after four or so.". </p><p>Geralt gave him a look that said he didn't want to know how he knew that. Jaskier didn't tell him how he knew that. And when Geralt returned to his buttons, Jaskier just started on his own. </p><p>The thing was, it wasn't that Jaskier wasn't into the idea. He'd been into the idea for a ridiculously long time, as it happened. What he <i>wasn't</i> particularly into was the fact that Geralt had been tricked into it by a menace of a mage who probably thought dosing them with sex pollen while she did who even knew what was the height of wit. Geralt undid his buttons with a good deal more restraint than Jaskier did, which he could tell because Geralt wasn't cursing as he pulled at his clothes like he'd have taken a knife to them if he'd had one handy, though he supposed Geralt <i>did</i> have a knife handy, it was just several feet long and what was usually known as a sword. Geralt hung his jacket over the back of a chair and then took off his boots, calmly, sitting down to do it like a sensible person while Jaskier hopped about like a lunatic and nearly tripped over his own feet. Geralt stood back up and took off his shirt and folded it over the top of his jacket and Jaskier's ended up just added to the growing pile of his clothes on the semi-dusty floor. Geralt took off his trousers, leaned forward from the waist and dragged them down like he was skinning something particularly unpleasant that he'd just stabbed in the woods, though Jaskier supposed wearing leather in the middle of summer must have a similar effect. </p><p>Jaskier finally did trip himself up as he took off his own trousers and ended up sprawling over the side of the unmade bed where Geralt must have slept the previous night. He lay there, wondering if Geralt had spent the previous night alone or if maybe he'd had company, not that he was jealous. He lay there, slightly winded and not sure his erection had survived the dive as it pressed achingly between the mattress and his stomach. And he would have stood himself back up again but for the fact that the next thing he knew, Geralt's rough fingers were trailing up his thighs. </p><p>He yelped. Geralt stopped. Jaskier dropped his forehead down against the bed and said, "Will you believe me if I say that was a <i>good</i> yelp?"</p><p>Geralt muttered something under his breath that came out more like a rumble but his hands went back to Jaskier's thighs. He decided that was a win, at least. </p><p>Honestly, Jaskier had been under the influence of sex pollen before then. Honestly, it had happened more than once - there'd been a party once upon a time where the orgiastic host had decided it was a good idea to put it in the wine, and a lady who actually really hadn't needed to drug him to get him into bed, but her brother-in-law had bumped into him first and they'd ended up fucking like rabbits in the broom closet. However, he hadn't quite felt the urge in either situation to scramble up onto his knees with his arse in the air and his face to his forearms and show his partner-in-pollen everything he'd got. Geralt seemed to appreciate that, though; he ran one hand between Jaskier's wide-spread thighs from where he was standing there behind him, let his palm skim his balls then curled his fingers around his cock. He stroked, his grip firm and his fingers rough. Jaskier let out a semi-desperate breathy laugh. </p><p>"Well, I didn't realise you were a tease, Geralt," he said, as Geralt withdrew his hand. He'd got his feet and most of his shins dangling over the edge of the bed, basically balancing on his knees and he honestly didn't feel particularly steady, but then he felt Geralt step in close behind him. He could feel the front of his thighs against the back of his own and his thick cock resting heavily against his arse and his hands came up to squeeze at his hips and strangely, he did feel steadier for it. Geralt leaned over to a bag he'd left on the table by the bed and he rummaged in it, not looking his most patient or coordinated when Jaskier glanced back over his shoulder, and he came back with a glass jar of something gloopy that was either burn cream or lip salve or possibly both, except apparently he was going to use it as lubricant. Jaskier probably wouldn't have minded by that point if he'd just leaned down and given him a lick and called that good, so when Geralt scooped some of the herby-smelling stuff onto his fingers and rubbed them in between his cheeks, that was actually something like a luxury. </p><p>When Geralt pushed a finger into him, well, fuck, he almost came just from that he was so darn turned on. He could tell Geralt was basically trembling as he tried to keep his cool, and that didn't help Jaskier's current state of near-unbearable horniness a single bit. He found himself spreading his thighs a bit wider and arching his back until it almost hurt and then Geralt spread his cheeks with both his palms and slid the length of his cock between them, flatly, over his herby-slick hole. Jaskier groaned and felt his cock give a twitch so hard he could've fallen off the bed if Geralt hadn't been basically propping him up from behind and then, well, Geralt pressed the tip of his cock against Jaskier's rim and rubbed it there until he was almost pleading. Then he did plead, because why not - there was a sudden unstoppable stream of <i>please please please just do it Geralt I'm really not getting any younger would you just put it in?</i> until Geralt did exactly that and cut off the babbling. He pushed, and he groaned, and Jaskier felt him easing in. He felt the tight rim of his hole stretch to take him, felt him fill him up with his ridiculous cock until he could barely breathe, and it didn't sound like Geralt was doing much better. </p><p>Geralt held him by the thighs as he fucked him, his hands fitting snugly into the creases where his legs met his groin and keeping him almost still as he started moving in him. It was far from the first time he'd had sex with a man, and probably far from the first time Geralt had, too, but the fact was it was the first time they'd had sex <i>together</i> and they'd known each other for years by then. Sometimes Jaskier had thought about it, and sometimes he'd thought about suggesting it, when they'd been alone on the way to who knew where without much else to do but talk and Geralt hadn't seemed inclined to. Now there they were, going at it hard and fast in a rented bed in a rather low-end inn, breathless and dizzy and what the bloody hell did Yennefer want there anyway? </p><p>Geralt came inside him with an almighty groan in what felt like forty seconds but was probably quite a lot longer. He pulled back, almost stumbled back, pulling out, and frankly Jaskier thought that was it: he'd be tugging himself off and hoping the magic fucking pollen - heh, magic <i>fucking pollen</i> - counted orgasming in the same room with the first person he'd touched after pollen infection. He wouldn't have been completely surprised if Geralt had put his clothes back on and ducked out to see what Yennefer was up to, either, but as he lay there on the bed and wrapped one hand around his throbbing cock, Geralt actually didn't go anywhere. He was flushed and sweaty and naked and his cock was only just starting to soften and fuck, he was a thing to look at, his hair all dishevelled and his hands on his hips. He could've got himself off just looking at him, he thought, but then Geralt came back to the bed, dropped down onto his knees and started sucking him with more enthusiasm than Jaskier had expected he could muster. </p><p>It had felt like it took forty seconds for Geralt to come and it felt like it was about that long for Jaskier to finish, too. Geralt pulled back as he did, awkwardly, and there was nothing Jaskier could do to help it: Geralt's chest and neck ended up dripping with come and he made a face that Jaskier couldn't quite interpret as he looked down at himself before he pulled himself up and flopped down heavily onto his back. They were close enough that their shoulders touched. Jaskier's face moved through about eighty different expressions in the time it took for Geralt to take a breath and blow it out.</p><p>"Well, that was unexpected," Jaskier said, as he looked up at the faintly damp-stained ceiling. </p><p>"Was it really?" Geralt replied. </p><p>Jaskier turned his head to look at him. Geralt turned his, too. </p><p>"I don't know, wasn't it?" he asked.</p><p>Geralt shrugged, all his hair fanned out carelessly against the pillow and his face slightly blotchy from the mix of pollen and the summer heat, then he looked away again. Apparently, it seemed, <i>Jaskier</i> was the one who was the most surprised by all of this. He wasn't sure how that had happened.</p><p>They didn't stay there much longer after that. As strong as the allure of lounging in Geralt's bed all afternoon was, so he didn't have to go back out into the beating sun or indeed return the hoopla hoops to three scandalised orphans now the pollen was safely inert, they didn't stay there. They wiped themselves off with one of Geralt's discarded shirts and put their clothes back on, and then they went to find out what Yennefer was doing. </p><p>They didn't find out, as it happened. Yennefer was long gone and they'd taken about eight hundred times longer than it had seemed at the time. They chased her around the countryside for three days then gave up because apparently whatever it was hadn't caused widespread panic. At least not just yet. </p><p>He'd thought he'd been pretty damn wary when he'd bumped into Yennefer. Turned out that was a bit of a delusion.</p><p>Next time he was warier. </p><p>---</p><p>"You know, Yennefer," he said, at the countess' birthday celebration, "I believe this is a private party." </p><p>She looked great, but she has an annoying tendency to do that at the most frustrating of moments. Given it was a spectacularly glittering party, all silk and diamonds and waiters in gold brocade, for once her looking great was actually in keeping with the situation.</p><p>"And what makes you think I crashed it?" she asked, mock-offended. She flipped her hair over one shoulder in her best hard-done-by manner and looked out across the room. "I'm here with someone."</p><p>"And who would that be exactly?"</p><p>She glanced at him. "You know, I can't recall?" she said, and she shrugged, and she looked back out across the room again. "Frankly, after the first seventy years or so, people all start to look the same."</p><p>"Well, you look fantastic for your age," he said. </p><p>"You look terrible for yours," she replied. He rolled his eyes so hard he thought he might have actually strained something. Then she snapped her fingers and the next thing he knew, everything in the entire hall went still. Except for him and her and the countess' dog, who took the opportunity to raid the banquet table. </p><p>"What did you just do?" he asked, as the familiar feeling he'd been ambushed started spreading a creeping sense of dread through his limbs. </p><p>"Not much," she said, and she oh-so-nonchalantly fished a pendant on a long silver chain from out of her cleavage. The stone in said pendant was glowing brightly, in a frankly disgusting shade of boggy green that he almost told her matched her eyes just to see what she'd say to that. And how exactly her bosom hadn't been lit up from the inside by some kind of incandescent marsh monster he wasn't totally sure. In the end, however, he refrained from saying much about the ugliest jewellery he'd ever seen in his life because he realised he'd seen that ugly jewellery before. He'd seen it on display at the summer fête. She'd stolen the Cairnblad Soulstone, because of course she had. The only surprising thing about it was no one had reported it missing. </p><p>"Yennefer, <i>what did you just do</i>?" he asked again. </p><p>"Don't worry," she said, as she dropped the pendant back into her dress where, thankfully, he didn't have to see it anymore. "They're all perfectly fine. They're just having a nice little fantasy about meeting their soulmates. You know, if they had one. Which most of them don't, I have to admit."</p><p>"So why am I not seeing mine?"</p><p>She gave him a look like that was incredibly obvious and smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. "Well, <i>obviously</i> that's because you've already met yours," she said. He raised his eyebrows. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. "And no, before you get excited: witchers don't have them." </p><p>He decided denial that Geralt had sprung immediately to mind probably wasn't the best way to to get through the conversation and instead he asked, "Then who?"</p><p>She raised her eyebrows, then she raised one hand with her index finger pointed up toward the ceiling. She swirled it around like maybe the Soulstone was doing something, except Jaskier half suspects it was doing absolutely sod all. Then she flipped her hand down by the wrist and pointed at herself. </p><p>"<i>You</i>?" he said. </p><p>"Me," she replied. </p><p>He frowned at her for a moment as she looked at him, eyes all twinkly like it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard and she expected him to have a fit. But actually, what he did was slump back against a conveniently located pillar and say, "You know, that would explain a lot." </p><p>Yen's smile widened. Jaskier wondered what exactly had happened to <i>wary</i>. Then they left together, while the other guests were still mid-fantasy - the party had been boring anyway, he thought, and Yennefer of Vengerberg was anything but that. </p><p>They spent a month or so together, all in all, at least that first time, travelling around from town to town as they made sure the soulmate thing wasn't so much total nonsense. It turned out it actually wasn't, which was interesting - he'd been so used to varying degrees of trouble and dismay since the first time they'd met, at least on his part, that he'd expected to find out she'd lied. Again. </p><p>They say soulmates are the strongest form of magic that occurs in nature. Quite who said it to begin with is something Jaskier's not entirely sure about, and quite how they determined it was true is a mystery to him, too, but the fact is they <i>do</i> say that. Mages and whatnot are powerful, but that power's something-something chaos that Jaskier isn't going to pretend he understands; his mind tends to wander when Yen's trying to explain it, and she hates it when he whistles when she's talking. It puts her off her flow, but he suspects she knows that's kind of the point. </p><p>They say soulmates are the strongest form of magic in nature, and the two of them took off from the countess' party to prove it. Everything Yen could do, she could amplify just by holding his hand, though he had to admit that holding hands with Yennefer had been on his to do list somewhere under <i>death by lightning strike while naked and covered in jam</i>. And then, as they sat together in the dining room of some grand manor house (which really wasn't theirs but whose owner had been only too happy about the magical orgy Yen had started in the ballroom), he turned to her and said, "So, sex magic..."</p><p>She drummed her fingernails on the tabletop. She wore them short, and sometimes she bit them, but somehow they never looked bad. He supposed that was part of the mage thing. </p><p>"I really don't think that's a good idea," she said. </p><p>"Then it's a really good thing I wasn't offering," he replied.</p><p>"Then what <i>were</i> you doing?" </p><p>"Well, I was going to ask if it's really a thing because there was this girl I met once who claimed she'd add ten years to your life if you could give her three orgasms in one night, and..." He shrugged, which had the effect of bobbling his head around since he was slumped against the table in the most inelegant manner possible. So was Yen, technically, but she always managed to make inelegant look elegant. "<i>That</i> was why I was asking. But now I want to know why it's not a good idea." He tilted his head. "I'll have you know I'm actually quite good. I've had a lot of practice." </p><p>She grimaced at him. "And that's meant to be enticing?"</p><p>He tutted at her. She shook her head. But that night, they went to bed together anyway; when she smirked and said, "I'll add ten years to your life if you give me three orgasms," he thought it was worth a shot. And, in the morning, when he looked out of the window - naked as the day he was born, much to Yen's consternation - and saw all the crops in all the fields had grown up ten feet tall, and all the trees' roots had pushed up and tumbled the nearby farmers' barns, and four sheep the size of horses were roaming down the road, he turned to her with eyebrows raised and hands on hips. </p><p>"So <i>that's</i> what you meant," he said. "Did we just create a pack of twenty foot long wolves to go marauding through the countryside by having excellent sex?"</p><p>She shrugged her shoulders against the big bed's rather wonderful mattress. "Maybe," she said. "But would you really call that <i>excellent</i>?"</p><p>"Wouldn't you?"</p><p>"I think you might need a little more practice," she said, but she threw back the sheets as she raised her eyebrows at him. He really couldn't have been <i>that</i> bad, then, so he shook his head and he rolled his eyes and he joined her on the bed again. </p><p>"Well, they do say practice makes perfect..." he said, and she screwed up her face, but then she pushed him down and straddled him. They didn't make it down to breakfast until noon.</p><p>Of course, what they actually made was a) a bit of a mess of the rather nice sheets, and b) a hawk the size of a wagon that started picking all the village cows off one by one. </p><p>The former they left to the long-suffering maid; the latter, he hears Geralt took care of. It made a wonderful song.</p><p>---</p><p>Yen cocks her head and quirks a brow and Jaskier grins back at her. Geralt looks like he'd rather fight a harpy naked than find out what they're doing here, but he's about to.</p><p>Yen and Jaskier don't always travel together. It's probably better for the world at large if they don't, he thinks, because while they've got better at <i>not</i> playing havoc with the local wildlife every time they fancy a quick shag, it usually has some interesting side-effects. He fucked her in the middle of a ballroom of frankly obscene size while she made its occupants utterly ignore them and apparently caused fits of hysteria throughout the whole surrounding county. He fucked her pressed up against a crappy inn room wall with her legs around his waist while she critiqued his technique and afterwards, it rained cats and dogs for six days straight - not literally, but it wouldn't have surprised him. And he'd be happy enough to give it yet another try but apparently, Yen has other ideas. He really couldn't say he minds them.</p><p>They don't always travel together. Sometimes Jaskier's with Geralt and sometimes Yen is, though neither arrangement seems to last very long and frankly, Jaskier's not sure if that's got more to do with him and Yen or Geralt, the Trouble Magnet of Blaviken. He knows Yen likes Geralt more than she'd admit to, and he'd say the same's true vice versa except he'd probably admit it if anybody cared to ask - turns out he's got a soulmate who drives him up the wall and round the bend then back to where he started, and the love of his life's a witcher who communicates primarily in disapproving scowls. Geralt just seems confused about the two of them most of the time. Fortunately for Jaskier, it turns out that where Yennefer's concerned they're none of them the jealous type.</p><p>Yen takes his hand. Magic crackles between them, and Geralt must feel it because he takes that as his cue to close the door behind him. </p><p>"Yen, what are you doing?" Geralt asks. </p><p>She smiles. "Don't look so worried, Geralt," she says. "I have a plan." </p><p>He looks at Jaskier. Jaskier shrugs. "Don't ask me," he says. "She doesn't tell me anything." </p><p>But, clearly against his better judgement, Geralt steps toward them anyway. Where the three of them are concerned, it seems <i>better judgement</i> often sadly lacks. </p><p>"Take your clothes off," Yen says, and when they both stare at her she sighs and gives them an exasperated look. "What, was that complicated?"</p><p>"More ambiguous than complicated," Jaskier says. He gestures between himself and Geralt. "There's two of us. You might have noticed."</p><p>Yen shakes her head. It's her best <i>I can't believe I know you</i> look, which Jaskier has to admit he sees a lot of when they're in each other's general vicinity.</p><p>"Everyone in the room, take your clothes off," Yen says, then she raises her eyebrows at him. "Less ambiguous?"</p><p>"Much." He starts work on his doublet. "Really, Yen, all I ask for is a little clarity." And, as he throws his doublet over the back of a nearby chair, Geralt's just staring at the two of them like he's not sure this is happening. Or at least like he's not sure <i>why</i>. That's not helped by the fact that Yen waves Jaskier closer and has him help her with her dress. He's not surprised she needs the help - she really might as well have sewn it on and had done with it. And once they're done, once they're both standing there naked with their clothes strewn all over half the room because it's not like they're not alike in some ways, they turn to Geralt. He's still fully clothed.</p><p>"You said I wasn't ambiguous," Yen tells Jaskier, then she gestures at Geralt. "If I wasn't ambiguous, why is he not naked?"</p><p>"I don't know," Jaskier replies. "What don't we ask him?" They turn to him again, both both crossing their arms. The fact they're both naked somehow doesn't dim the disapproving look they give him and, after a moment's scowl, Geralt starts work on his buttons. As he undresses, muttering under his breath, they both watch. And then, once he's done, Yen steps in close; she pulls him into a kiss and Jaskier watches, and the way her hand slips down around Geralt's cock makes Jaskier's throb, too. It doesn't take Yen very long to get Geralt hard, and by then Jaskier's already there. They're really quite something to look at but then Yen pulls back abruptly and gestures for him to come closer. The confused look on Geralt's face as he watches them kiss is really something, too.</p><p>"Since when do you even like each other?" Geralt asks, as they pull apart.</p><p>"I wouldn't necessarily say we do," Jaskier replies, and Yen smacks him in the chest.</p><p>"Of course we do," she says, though her offended tone wouldn't fool anyone, not even for a second. "He's a sweetheart. Geralt, will you get down on your knees?"</p><p>Geralt looks skeptical but eventually, he kneels. And when Jaskier comes closer, when he tilts up Geralt's chin and offers him his cock, when he nudges his lips with the tip of it and feels his balls pull tight, Geralt open his mouth and takes him in. He doesn't even have to ask, and Yennefer's delighted. </p><p>It's going to be a long night, Jaskier thinks, with his fingers tight in Geralt's hair and his cock pushed into Geralt's mouth. It's going to be a long night, and if Yen's right then Geralt's whole witcher thing might just be the answer to their soulmate magic problem. If she's wrong, well, honestly that wouldn't be particularly new, and Jaskier can't say he won't enjoy the test.</p><p>In the morning, it wouldn't surprise him if they've buried half the town in lemon tarts or had it occupied by twitchy-nosed rabbits the size of the average carthorse. </p><p>But for now, as Yen stretches out on the crappy bed and beckons them to join her, he's not entirely sure he cares. Geralt's going to fuck her and he's going to fuck Geralt and maybe it'll rain broad beans or maybe Yen's right and all they really needed was to get the three of them into bed, not just two at a time. Maybe Yen's right and maybe she's wrong but when he tastes himself on Geralt's tongue as they kiss on their way to her, he decides <i>right</i> and <i>wrong</i> don't really matter anyway. </p><p>They'll sort it out one way or another - in the end, they always do. And this time the three of them will be together.</p>
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